Write across ages

The thing I want to say has no words
So I'm just going to write across ages speaking around the thing
As if it could even be called a thing
Enduring endless uncertainty
Being in this moment
Coming to this moment

* so delicate *

Dodging and weaving
These thoughts
Promoting doubt, fear, and despair
" But what about this . . . "
" If it was more like . . . I would be better off "
Does this stream end at, here ?
Does this bring me to now ?

:
:

Planning for the future

* so delicate *

Justification
Defense
" I need to plan for the future "
" Or I will have no future "

Taking me away from now

Option z)
trust

That by releasing the future
It is assured
I am taken care of

Because what is assurance anyway ?
A begging for mercy ?
A needing comfort ?
A fear of being out of control ?

Can I be out of control
At the mercy of a whimsical force
?

Do I fear to have my control killed ?
What happens if I let go . . .

:
:
:

Down I go

Or up
I suppose

The Dream World

I was holding a weekly Sunday morning tea service with dream focused discussions
Tea dream weave

I opened the events with a short introduction

This was inspired by my journeys to the Amazon Rainforest in Ecuador
We visited tribal peoples with the ritual of waking each morning before dawn
Drinking an amount of guayusa tea
And purging on the rainforest floor
Loud vibrant puking noises filled the sound scape daily
Then they return to the hut and discuss as a community their dreams from that night
All were welcome to share what they had seen in the night
Some were practiced in interpreting the metaphors of the dream world
& based on what appeared, they would plan the activities of their days to accomodae their new knowledge
If they received a warning for instance, they may choose reschedule that big hunt that they had been preparing
They respect and utilize the messages from their dreams
Allowing their actions to be guided by these insights

Observing this ritual, I came to contemplate further why we have dreams in the first place
I had that experience enough times, where I awake from a very vidid and emotionally potent dream
and when I go to explain it to someone, the response is so often, 'oh wow.'
or something of that nature
So upon reconsidering the significance / reasons why we dream as humans,
I remembered the feelings of eagerness and slight disappointment when sharing a dream with someone
And having no real place or relevance for the experiences to have value

So perhaps there was a way to acknowledge dreams and the impact they have on our thoughts, feelings, sight, experience

And furthermore, what is the difference between dreams and memories, as far as their significance to our psyche ?

So for the purposes of this tea dream discussion, we will allow our dream worlds to impact us
Not only will we pay extra attention to the dreams we have at night while sleeping, but also to the imaginings we see in even the most momentary snippets throughout the day

We will allow our dreams, day dreams, memories, and imaginings
However seemingly random, to speak to us
To paint our experience with metaphoric insight
We leave space to not have to know or assume we know the meaning
To be moved and impacted in multi-dimensional ways and to notice over time
Patiently welcoming less easily explained insights and feelings

Every night before going to bed, we would take a moment to acknowledge this relationship with the dream world and openness to being guided to a sense of understanding
Upon returning from a dream, we might even write down a summary of what we recall
I found that in writing it down, and especially in retelling it to a receptive friend, more details about the full sensory experience of the dream would come alive
Things that seem simple or irrelevant reveal that they actually come with an a emotional association or a connection to another thought or memory

While in Ecuador, we were taught a simple dream interpretation tool
To be used in a group of 2 or more
Each person has a turn telling a dream they have had
After a person's dream telling, each patner has the opportunity to retell that person's dream as if it were their own
( Using 'I went / my / . . . ' )
The partner has the option to embellish, or emphasize any part they want, while keeping with the basic points

I find this tool strangely insightful in it's simplicity
It give us some freedom in allowing an interpretation to unfold casually with fluidity
And it engages a conversation with the living memory of your dream world
In other words, we can then notice what it brings up in us to recount and expand on the details of our dreams
Allowing the scapes and sensations conveyed in a dream,
To permeate and integrate into 'waking' life
Keeping the conversation live

This is a relatively simple tool of experience
An inherent quality of our humanness
That can be welcomed, explored, made use of
I am curiously and happily surprised by how my experience of reality(s) has shifted since I opened myself to exploring and listening to the dream world
The environment around me is becoming more interactive
As I am allowing my imaginings to speak relevance and tell stories to me without even using words
Acknowledging feel ings

It started with dedicating attention to the idea of discovering
and being patient
Avoiding imposing sudden judgements and being open to being guided by imagery and metaphor

Thought Stream

Here I sit

I feel terror to write

Because I feel so much I don't know

I don't want to admit to you that I feel helpless

That I'm unsure

Yet I have this pervasive urge

To observe, be with, share this conceptual thought process

Maybe I should just not think about it so much

But then who would I be [insert unanswerable question to make light of potential over-thinking]

. . . thinking, thinking . . . how do I even begin to write out this elaborate and oft paradoxical stream ?

with time in between striking letters, and space in between paragraphs

Metaphor ? Story-telling ? Vulnerable, rambling thought stream ?

I am observing consciousness, my consciousness, the concepts, objects, subjects, phenomenon that come across my awareness(es)

The various aspects of this experiential existence

The composition of moving parts of which I can comprehend . . .

[[[writing comprehend, had me want to look up the definition of

comprehend :grasp mentally; understand; to take into the mind by understanding

Etymology : 'together' + 'grasp' ]]]

So upon further consideration,

The composition of moving parts that cross my mind

When I speak of 'the world,' I see how I can only paint broad strokes or, make generalizations about what is possible or in existence

[generalization : a general statement or concept obtained by inference from specific cases]

Specifics cases being the key words

I can easily make statements about the world

For example : People fear and avoid what they don't know . . .

. . . You must be very cautious who you invite into your space / life because some people could take advantage of you at any moment . . .

. . . It’s a dog eat dog world . . .

. . . People who are religious don't think for themselves . . .

So I cannot ignore that when I make statements about how other people are,

those statements are being derived from specific cases in my life or understanding that have brought me to draw a conclusion about people and how they are

This inevitably overlooks a great number and scope of people and existences

that are equally present in existence

So I prefer to not guess at what others' experience entails

Yet, still I do

Especially when I find myself casually looking around Facebook and Instagram

Now matter how much I wish or have been counseled to not compare myself to others

It feels eerie here

I hear myself playing out scenes I've heard from others

Somehow it isn't me speaking but I'm almost inclined to speak the way people have spoken to me

Seems logical when you think about how we learn language, it is passed down, we learn to speak before we learn to know what it means

This is one reason I like definitions

I like to entertain the "common definition" as well as the etymology, "the word origin"

Not necessarily to be obsessive about my speech

But to simply consider the different ways of looking at a single word, and to imagine all the ways the words could be perceived

Even within one language

This has brought me to study the language and communication that exists

beyond or in addition to

the words we use and their definitions

And how to convey messages beyond what the words themselves speak, in their certain order,

and with their certain audible feel

A few days ago I was sitting writing when my mom entered the room and started interacting with me while I was typing

I attempted to best I could narrate the experience in the moment

: : :

Wavering

Transgressing realities

Moving across the lines

Vibration

Resonance

Harmony

Thought experiments through experience

Intent

Flow

Discipline

Surrender

Walking in a world

Questioning your validity

Do you belong, show me your ID

Do you belong, if you buy something

Voice of fear

Proving worth

Gentlemen

Social rule

Evading confusion

By omitting sense

Surrender

Surrender

Snow sparkles at my back

White as nothing else

Maybe cotton

Parts of ocean waves

Clouds

eggs, salt,

paper,

light

bright

pure

light

Of what am I composed ?

is there a difference between

eye and I

so many Is

& only one way to write i

Everything is okay

But not as if your feelings are irrelevant

Not that everything is so mediocre

every

thing

is okay

(acceptable, in existence, relevant / irrelevant, here now)

NOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

If everything is okayyyy,

Then why do I feel so anxious ?!

What does that even mean anyway, everything is okayy

She must not have my disease

Everything is NOT okay

Yes! Very true, everything is NOT okay

Okay is only a word

Referencing other words

So by definition, everything is both okay

and not okay

Schrödinger's okay

Schrödinger is okay

Where do i stand now

the clouds have rolled in

Santa Fe New Mexico

grammar rules

omitting commas for supposed flow

learning the rules so you know how to break them

Oscillating

wavering

sinking

floating

A state in between other states

Texas   Arizona  Utah

Oooo utah

E (my font just changed spontaneously) gg was wiping a wet plate on his shirt belly

Speaking past tense

was

I hope the font changes back

Music stopped

Fiddling with wires and unknowns

Stomach tenses

Brisk breeze from the frozen window

The smell of bacon

Mom

past thoughts

Formalities

"It's getting cloudy" mom says

Judgments : niceties

Silliness factor, engage

Accepting variations in, "dealing with"

Sensation in my chest is tightening

Edginess

Sighing

Trying to make sure no one gets too upset with each other

Mind kicks in to try to out-think the situation

How can I ease the environment

How do I behave to have my best possible outcome

There is nothing I can do to change the situation

Its too many factors to hold onto

Everything is slipping away from me

I must surrender

But it hurrtttssssss

My body, my chest, my . . .

Breathing pauses

Forced air and pushing my shoulders back

She re-enters the room

i tracking

i scanning

i premonitioning

Or is that fear

Fear tells me to run

Hide

Just avoid impending doom

She finds the book of pictures

Torment

Is that real, or just how I am looking at it ?

Do I know my mom ?

How much does the title Mom mean ?

How much weight does it hold ?

Does it have to be like this ?

Limited response

Forced

Reached out for more intimate response

Tensing

Pre planning

Analyzing

'The whole thing is Jitana' she says

The chain of events that spur around to

Shaking head up and down

and left and right at the same time

i closed the window

Ebbing briskness

Attempting to soften

Do i impart 'will' and change the color of the font now ?

Or do I let it speak to me ?

stilled

She is talking about home town now

I sneezed

Wanting wanting

comfort

thinking thinking

it isn't here

Runaway truck ramps

Who gets to decide they will work ?

How do they decide ?

I can see the reflection in the edges of the laptop screen of one wild white hair on the top of my head

It is a touch screen

Wow the future

Technology

Robots

West World

Reality

Matter

Electricity

fingers

The 'space' between 'things'

Glistening shadow edges on frosted snow texture

Shadows can be different tones

Light is semi permeable

where does the shadow stop and the . . non-shadow . . begin

Social media unknown speaker : 'There is no birth or death of electricity, of energy,

But our bodies still live in time'

Making art of the bed pillows

She wants to get a zip up beddy

. . . to zip up the bed without having to arrange it each time

Money is flying through the air, hovering over this table (in a chinese takeout box, see-thru)

Organize the pictures on the computer

Make sure everything is where it should be before I die !

: : :

If there was a point, it would be

There are many ways of looking at things

and many components and layers of a thing

Layers of waves coexisting

voices speaking over each other

&

There are many meanings beyond what is possible to explain

There is a lot going on here that is taking place between the lines

. . .

Here

we

are

herE

Throat Frog, Hello

Okay

I began typing
Feeling pregnant with words, yet unknown of gender
Calling forth fluidity of concept
I decided to transition from tiny typing to lap style
Went to retrieve computer from front seats of van
Found it just where I left it
Yet something was different

Slime

Yes that's right
Slime
Slug or snail, I have yet to learn to decipher these intricacies

So now I'm giggling to myself
A weave is approaching

I've become aware of this frog in throat sensation for some time now
The way has beckoned for silence and stillness
For enhanced awareness of automatics
For delicate attention to the nature of thoughts and feelings

I had been, for some time experiencing a full mailbox, no space to be found on the calendar
Inundation with meetings with friends and clocking in on time for eight-hour segments
Mail kept coming to the box and time was chock full
Stuffing the box was the solution for a bit, shoving envelopes in any way possible
Using the exposed stack-ends to hold whatever extra notes could be forced in the cracks

I would get to them all eventually
I put out a box for additionals
Before I could look back it was full to the brim and, you guessed it, it had rained
So I decided to employ the neighbor to build  a pretty box over all of it
If I can't keep up with the mail, opening five envelopes a day and getting terrible paper cuts
I just want something pretty for people to look at as they drive by
They'll never know it used to be a mail box

Okay so I never received that much actual mail
But the sensation was akin
Natural progression led me to simplification

A curiosity of what being would be like
When not constantly trying to manage appointments and appease schedule changes
Insisting on making use of every moment by engaging in activity at every available juncture

The curiosity at the time was subtle

I didn't have a specific idea for how my days would go if I didn't have a forty-hour-a-week job job
I wouldn't have known to wish to reach the point I am at now, as far as the "look of this life"

I've been simplified
And cleared out
I wanted to hear what would reveal itself

As for simplifying, it seems an asymptote
I have so little now
And still mounds and bags to tote around
I do substantially less
Than I would've ever imagined I would like
Than my best sensibilities would suggest
Naturally I have flowed to a quiet part of the river

Here I am grateful
Every day I merge with the miraculousness of existence
This I asked for, I asked to know my connection to spirit at every moment
I am silence and stillness
I am moved to inspired creativity
and reverently hearing the intricate world beating within and around me
I've been exposed to ideas that have blown my socks so far off
I seldom wear socks anymore
Blown my mind so wide open
I do not know to where the reaches extend

& with all this
I hear clearer and frequent
And have been invited to also honor the experience of
Voices and sensations that speak of
Utter dismay
That urge, nay, insist that I'm not doing enough, that I'm not doing it right, that if I did such and such, or was more such and such
I could always be happy,
That everyone would like me more,
That I could have everything I've ever wanted but not gotten

In stark contrast
I've heard reflection
You're so beautiful
You're so wonderful and smart and vibrant
Your life seems awesome, you get to do so many cool things

What do you have to worry about ?

Why do you have doubts ?

Here is where it gets weird

When I try on these reflections . . .

My life is so simple, and beautiful

I am offered amazing opportunities to venture across the varied scapes of earth 

and to gather in communion with unique, open, loving, adventurous humans

I travel with a vivid, kind, helpful, lovely, insightful human who kisses my forehead sweetly at nights

What do I have to worry about ?

I have waved thank you and goodbye to so many extraneous factors

I have an amazingly keen and clear mind

I have uncanny abilities and tendencies to beautify environments

and consciously narrate realities

I have consistent, whimsical, collaborative conversations & experiences with trees, plants, animals, rivers, fire, bicycles, robots, flies . . .

Why do I hear so much doubt in my thoughts about myself  and my experience ?

I don't know about answers

But miraculous glimpses of light shine intimately through confusion and dismay

Inklings of omnipresent peace and contentment tempt inclusion to this dynamic party that could be called 'experiencing life'

I can no longer reasonably blame (or associate) my angst and discontentment on my 9-5, or the rent cost that looms over me

I can no longer reasonably believe that if I had more time in the day, I would then be able to live the life of my hopes and dreams 

I'm sitting here in the in-between

That gooey soft part in between the bones

That point of falling before pulling the parachute where I still don't know if it's going to catch me 

That utter unknown 

no-longer-sense-making-everything-you-built-has-been-demolished,

That you-thought-in-the-back-of-your-mind-it-would-all-work-out-beautifully-and-it-did-but-there-always-seems-to-be-kinks-and-I'd-almost-rather-give-up-and-take-my-cheese-shop-job-back,

That I-thought-I-could-withstand-anything-with-my-adaptability-but-gosh-these-doubtful-self-disparaging-thoughts-about-the-state-of-the-world-really-have-me-convinced-at-times-so-much-I-seem-to-slide-into-oblivion 

I love devotedly experiencing life so amazingly vivid 

I love where I've been, where I am at, what has materialized in my existence 

I love continually opening against all odds and fears 

I have 'achieved' unfathomable simplicity and delight in everyday unfolding

& I know I have something to say, why can't I always just say it ? 

Something I am seeing is this propensity for asking questions of the interworkings of the world around me

When I am asking this seemingly influential questions 

How much am I demanding an answer 

And how much do I want it to look a certain way or to have me feeling a certain degree of certainty as a result 

How much do I (albeit sometimes subconsciously) want this 'answer' to be a B) style, look in the back of your book to receive successful appropriate determination, kind of an answer 

I've been invited to allow /create space for metaphoric insight 

Messages are presented, in various forms through movement and play with the world around me, using various mediums and players
Birds come to wake me out of the haze and people knock on my window when I can't seem to get over myself
Colors shift in the air, shifting with them consciousness
Trees send down gliding leaves speaking of things that this babbling mind can't pretend to make logic of

I've asked to experience reality
I have given my self over to the scopes of existence
Illuminated are concepts and worlds I never knew to guess might exist
And the worlds build upon themselves, making a symphony of moving features manifesting before my very eyes

So I got back in the van after writing here
And the first thing I found, on the floor under the steering wheel
Were the unmistakable gooey remnants
Of what could only be a slime trail scootching slug
Spread out into smithereens

This mind seems to want to give meaning to things in its experience
These thoughts want to claim they know what should or shouldn't be a part of this experience based on some system of understanding and expectation of 'outcome'
Do I have a say in the narration of these concurrences ?
Does fear rule my actions ?